


carry you home

by lochTenderness (theseourbodies)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Flirting, Hangover, M/M, Pre-Relationship, University Volley, not necessarily an AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:20:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26655046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theseourbodies/pseuds/lochTenderness
Summary: No fun stuff last night, which means he probably let someone take him home and then passed out on them. Not fun, and super, super not cool.Daichi finds out the hard way that "captain" is something that youare, not just a title.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou & Sawamura Daichi, Sawamura Daichi/Terushima Yuuji
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47





	carry you home

**Author's Note:**

> Not the rarest of rare pairs, but I love them so much??

Yuuji blinks awake choking on the nastiest, hairiest case of dry mouth  he’s ever had. Peeling his sore eyelids open by force of will,  he’s instantly under attack, assaulted by the bright,  cheery sun blasting through the cracked blinds. Every single inch of skin not covered by the heavy blanket over him feels bruised-tender, overripe. 

He pulls the blanket up over his head inch by inch.  It's only when  he's cocooned in sweet darkness and waiting for either death or unconsciousness, that he realizes he smells something weird. Not-drunk-sweat weird, not-himself weird. This is not his heavy blanket. He  doesn't even have a sheet tacked over the dingy, not-morning-sun facing window in his dorm room, let alone tidy blinds. The mattress under him squishes, and  there's no solid, steady floor underneath it. Yuuji's been cast adrift in someone else's bed. 

Yuuji snaps up (Yuuji carefully pushes himself upright and balanced forward on his updrawn knees, hissing when his shoulders start aching and his abdominals  wail in agony) and wobbles his butt cheeks, quick one-two flex, just to check his stuff. His muscles complain, but not in the sexy way; Yuuji realizes abruptly that  he's just in his underwear and flops back (carefully levers himself back down to the mattress) with a groan. 

No fun stuff last night, which means he  probably let someone take him home and then passed out on them. Not fun, and super, super not cool. Somehow, he  hadn't thought that college could be this complicated for  a dude just doing his best to have  a good time . 

The smell of something frying eventually makes Yuuji stir from the aching half-nap  he's slipped in to; with proper motivation, he gets himself sat up again and even manages to twist his legs off the bed. 

Ignoring the puddle of familiar clothing Yuuji  doesn’t have the strength to deal with, he strides (trips and shuffles) out of the stranger's room. The living room on the other side of the door is even more hellishly bright, and it stops Yuuji right in his tracks, his  cheery halloo cutting off into a groan as he slaps his hands over his bruised-feeling eyes. It smells fucking delicious now, something sizzling sweetly, another something burbling happily, so  it's really too bad Yuuji  can't enjoy it, crouched as he is on the floor and begging once more for the sweet release of death. 

Over the sounds of the frying-something, someone says his name and Yuuji gasps a greeting. A hand pulls him up but  doesn't make him move his hands from his eyes, just pulls him along by the bicep before  leaning him up against a hard edge-- a counter, he sees when he peeks. The kitchen's darker, just enough darker for Yuuji to crack his eyes open under his cupped palms and see-- 

Oh fuck. 

\--- 

Daichi  doesn't know how this happened, or why, he just knows that  he's not actually that low on the volleyball club's totem pole. He  shouldn't be this easy to bully around anymore. He sighs, taking the breath all the way from his belly and out as plumes of steam in the  cold air . He has a vivid fantasy of Suga's crisp laugh, gently, ruthlessly mocking Daichi, but  it's brief; Suga is a hundred  kilo meters away pursuing his marketing degree among his own kind now, abandoning Daichi to his fate.  There's no one to make fun of Daichi or help him with the sixty-plus  kilo burden that Daichi's captain had foisted off on him to take care of just a spare five minutes earlier. 

Daichi lets himself  bemoan his fate very quietly as  Terushima Yuuji trips along beside him, staggering often and saved from a face full of asphalt only by the grace of god  and also Daichi's carefully  maintained deltoids. He giggles,  he's a giggler.  He's also a few solid centimeters taller than Daichi now, and the barbell through his tongue clicks a little when he talks. He is, of course, also a talker, so Daichi and that small barbell are well acquainted. 

Pervert Daichi! cackles a voice in his head that sounds like Suga, and Daichi feels his face heat up. It is very possible that Daichi has not entirely sobered up. 

"Captain!" says  Terushima in his ear, tongue piercing clicking happily like it likes the word. "Hey, Captain!" 

Daichi  hasn't been anyone's captain for the last two years, and  it's weird how  it's changed what the word means to him. It  doesn't make him look anymore, though his first couple days of training with the university team had almost given Daichi a permanent tic. 

" Terushima , I was only captain for the one year you played against me." 

Terushima looks over (and down) at Daichi,  apparently forgetting that he was walking in the process. Daichi strains to hold him up as  Terushima tries to stare a hole in his left ear. "Captain's not something you are just while you're playing, Sawa." 

"Sawamura." 

"Sagamara." 

"Sa-wa-mura." 

Terushima squints at him, bringing his free hand up to  cup the side of Daichi's face as he pouts. 

"Hey what's your name, anyway?" 

Daichi takes another deep breath in and lets it out hard; he  makes a decision . His friends (Kuroo) are always telling him to live with a little less caution.

"Daichi."

Terushima’s eyes light up, and Daichi barely has time to get a grip on his jacket to hold him up before  Terushima throws his arms up and squawks:

"Captain Daichi, YA-HOO!!" 

\--- 

"S-Sawamura," Yuuji breathes out, staring down. 

Sawamura Daichi smiles up at him. "Daichi's fine, considering."

Considering what, Terushima  doesn't know and  doesn't want to think about. 

"Captain Daichi!" 

Daichi winces, and so does Yuuji-- even his own voice makes his head  throb . Sawa-- Daichi's voice is deeper, soothing. Shit. 

"Just plain Daichi, now," he says, and the smile comes back. Small, sturdy, a good smile for a man  that's as solid as a brick shithouse, even still.

" 'Just Plain Daichi' doesn't really have the same ' oomph ', Captain," Terushima tells him earnestly. Daichi sighs through his nose, and  there's a  furrow between his brows, but he  doesn't stop smiling. 

The  pause almost , almost gets awkward, but  Terushima remembers Daichi's sense of timing from that one time they got to play one another. At length Daichi says, "Sure," and turns back to the stovetop where what looks like  approximately a half dozen eggs are sizzing and popping, perfectly flipped over-easy. 

Yuuji's mouth is watering pathetically just smelling them, beating back the feeling of something fuzzy and dying off his tongue. It  doesn't do anything for how slimy his teeth feel, but Yuuji takes the win.

"You want coffee?" Daichi asks him, distracted by his attempts to get the whole farm's worth of  sunny side up eggs onto two plates, already waiting with toast. " Kettle’s on and the pour-over's waiting." 

\---

"You want a drink?" 

Daichi lazily lifts the drink he has in his hand already, his third since Daichi had stepped through the front door to their captain's apartment. Kuroo snickers at him and sets the bottle in his left hand down by their feet and takes a long, solid pull from the bottle waiting in his right. 

"My, my, Sawamura, you look positively buzzed." 

Daichi is definitely at least that, and he chuckles. Everything is  very soft and moving very quickly all around him but leaning against this wall steadies Daichi nicely. 

"Thought I deserved the night off from responsibility," Daichi tells him, warmed up by the  booze and the happy, bubbly sounds of the house party.

Kuroo has a terrible, terrible laugh; Daichi had thought for a while that it was fake until he had gotten to know him better.  It's almost comforting now, in the devil-you-know kind of way. 

"Haven't you heard the saying that dads don't get the night off, man?" 

Daichi is too buzzed and warm to muster up a proper glare, but the one he manages sends Kuroo dancing away, snickering. 

"Hey now, I'm just saying. How many of your team was it that accidentally called you dad?" 

All the first years, even Tsukishima, much to his and Daichi's mutual horror. And even Noya, once, but Daichi certainly  isn't going to be telling Kuroo that.

Daichi's reaching down to claim the spare bottle that Kuroo's left for him to replace his empty when someone rams into him, almost sending him sprawling. Kuroo gets a hand on him and murmurs something sly, but Daichi's already turning his attention to whoever just smacked him.  It's a tall, tan streak of a person with a wave of blond hair  who's shouting apologies and curses, every few words punctuated by a subtle click-lisp. When the room stops trying to spin around him, Daichi squints (up) and realizes that this is all terribly familiar.

"Terushima?"

"Captain!" shouts  Johzengi's Terushima at the top of his powerful lungs. "What the hell are you doing here??" 

"Wow," mutters Kuroo beside him, smirking like  Terushima is Christmas and his birthday and  _ Kenma's  _ birthday all rolled together. "Wow, you know this guy?" Daichi ignores him. 

"I was invited," Daichi says to  Terushima , which is his first mistake. The party  isn't deafening, but the music's loud enough to justify some close talking if you  don't want to yell yourself  hoarse .  Terushima apparently wants to save  what's left of his rough-already voice; he crowds in closer even than Kuroo likes to when  he's trying to be pushy. Daichi resigns himself to the  embarrassment and cranes his neck back to keep  Terushima's megawatt grin in view. 

"Me too! Are you on the university team, Captain?"

"Sawamura, don't leave me hanging here," Kuroo hisses, gleefully pressing up against Daichi's other side. "Who the heck is  _ this _ ?" 

Daichi ignores him. "I am. I walked on when I was in my first year and they kept me." 

"Wow! I'm starting practices next week, that's nuts!" If  Terushima can speak softer than a  scratchy bellow,  he's choosing not to. Kuroo, the bastard, starts leaning against Daichi's back, one sharp elbow pressing ominously into Daichi's collarbone. Daichi chooses to focus on the impending danger of mild bodily harm instead of the explicit implication that  Terushima is a new teammate.

"That  _ is _ interesting. Terushima, have you met Kuroo Tetsurou? He's the starting MB." Daichi ducks and dodges from under Kuroo's menacing arms, sending Kuroo straight into the wall face first. Kuroo recovers, of course, still smirking as he props himself back up. 

"So  Terushima-kun , what brings a kid like you to a party like this?" 

Terushima , unfazed by being called a child to his face, launches into the story enthusiastically, arms waving and piercing clicking. Kuroo's expression is  rapturous as he watches and listens, which is good-- Daichi loves his company, but sometimes  it's a lot to be the sole focus of a buzzed Kuroo. The bottle in his hand is almost empty, and he owes Kuroo for the spare, anyway; time to hunt down another round. 

He thinks  he’s successfully rerouted  Terushima’s intense focus. He cheerfully pats himself on the back and heads off to the apartment’s  kitchen .  It’s time for a refill. 

Unfortunately,  he’s barely got his hands on another couple of bottles to ferry back to Kuroo when the actual team captain catches his eye. Daichi  can’t help the sigh that slips out of him at the look in his eye—sometimes he really does just want a break.

\--- 

Yuuji is most of the way through his plate full of fried egg when the grease smacks into the caffeine in his system with an electric jolt and he realizes: 

Sawamura Daichi had taken him home last night, and Yuuji had  _ passed out on his bed. _

Now.  It's not that Yuuji has a crush on this guy.  It's just that playing against him had been one of those  _ moments _ where  all of Yuuji's scattered attention had focused in,  _ hard _ , and forgetting about it had been easier said than done.  It's not that Yuuji's crushing on this masculine  dude who  probably has a high school sweetheart  he’s given a promise ring and his team jacket too.  He’s definitely not into this bro who  probably has long-term life goals and who lives in this nice, tidy apartment with blinds on the windows.  It's just that Yuuji's never really had a rival before, even if it was just for one game a long time ago. 

There are a lot of things that he can say, so of course what ends up coming out of his mouth is "did you pick me up last night??" Or, the  _ worst possible thing _ .

Sawamura's brow furrows, and he swallows his eggy-toasty bite before he says "No, that wasn't necessary?" 

Yuuji carefully swallows some coffee  and also the hysterical giggle tickling his throat. He wants to ask what had happened, because  he's in a self-improvement stage of his life right now where he really likes it when people tell him about wild shit that he did while he was black out without having to do anything different the next time just yet. But Yuuji’s brain keeps screaming  _ that  _ _ wasn’t _ _ necessary, it  _ _ wasn’t _ _ necessary _ over and over again , which is making Yuuji want to sink right through the floor. Apparently, Yuuji after enough drinks had forgotten the memo that they  weren’t crushing on this guy,  _ at all. _

But Daichi  isn't finished: Before Yuuji can resolve himself to do something like apologize except not that, Daichi says, "I mean, you were walking pretty well on your own, so I was mainly there to prop you up." 

What. 

"Sorry about just taking you here-- I didn't know where you lived, and I was only just sobering up myself." 

Wait. What.

"So, you didn't pick me up?" 

Another little smile, more curled at the corner like its own question. "Yeah, isn't that what I said? And when I left you in the bed you were fully clothed,” Daichi continues, something warming up his voice sweetly, like a laugh trapped in his chest. Yuuji  hasn’t blushed since he was  maybe twelve years old, but  suddenly his face is really,  really warm .

Yuuji  has to physically bite his tongue to not ask the next three questions that  immediately come to mind,  and also to not groan  aloud at the implication that Sawamura Daichi could  probably physically pick him up any time he liked. Whatever,  it’s fine. He mutters a quick, target-less  _ sorry  _ and they both focus on eating in blissful silence. 

...Right up until Sawamura chokes on the bite in his mouth and splutters, “ _ What _ , did you mean--?” 

And Yuuji is forced to bury his face in his hands and say ( wail ) “I don’t know! Maybe?”

"Wait, did you-- did you want me to? Do that?" 

Yuuji takes a deep breath. It smells as nice as it looks in Daichi's space, like something other than laundry that needs doing and athlete's foot. It takes him a second to even register what Daichi's even said;  he's honestly still waiting for a pretty, practical girl to wander in from the entrance way with fruit or pastries or something. Whatever pretty, practical young women get for breakfasts with their  disgustingly committed high school sweethearts-- wait. 

What-- 

"I-- no! No, I  didn't , I just thought. It wouldn't have been the worst?" Yuuji says like a question. It  wouldn't have  been; he has a vague memory of seeing Daichi through the crowd at the party and feeling some (particular) kind of way about it that  definitely  wasn't indifference. But  that's beside the point now, because Yuuji's registering something  that's not disgust from Daichi and that's... interesting. 

"You just, ah, you were pushing that player thing pretty hard when I knew you." 

"Ha!  I'm still that guy,  it's just not women exclusive. It was just-- high school." Yuuji  isn't going to bother with the particulars of his coming out sob story to this (beautiful) man, even if  there's something knowing about the way Daichi hums in agreement. Yuuji realizes after the fact that he just bragged about still fucking around to Mr.  Commitment and wants to scream and  maybe hide under the table. 

"So!" he says, too loud with nerves. Daichi's looking out at him from under concerned brows and Yuuji just wants to move  _ on _ already. "So, I mean! I wouldn't have minded and that's why I was, uh, confused." God, when would Daichi's girlfriend just get here and put Yuuji out of his misery?

"Ah, that's-- I certainly wouldn't have dumped you in bed like that if I had picked you up. I  mean if I was picking you up in that sense."

_ Of course not, what would your girlfriend say??  _ Yuuji  doesn't say. "Sure! Yeah, I bet  you'd be, um--" You'd be  _ what _ , what the hell else could Yuuji ask for than what he had gotten this morning? A hot meal and good, non-judgmental company with a great cook and  stand-up guy who drank pour over coffee made from beans that he  just casually ground by hand with his ridiculous arms? 

"Well I certainly wouldn't have brought you anywhere but wherever you live. You were pretty incredibly drunk last night." 

Of course,  _ of course _ . Yuuji slumps back into his seat. Daichi has his arms crossed on the table, leaning into his elbows.  He's just as ordinary looking as  he'd been in high school,  just plain Daichi, like  he'd said. But there was plain and there was ordinary, and then there was Daichi who wore both those things like they were only half the truth about him. 

"And if I hadn't been drunk?" Yuuji asks his own lap, as quietly as he can manage. He almost wants Daichi to miss it, but if that had been what he really wanted he  wouldn't have said anything in the first place. Yuuji's always been a man of action.

" Terushima ." 

Yuuji looks up, reacting instinctively to the authority in Daichi's voice better than he had to any captain he had  actually played under. Daichi's watching him carefully; Yuuji  doesn't know if he finds what  he's looking for. 

"That night, no, I probably wouldn't have. But after? If you had tried some of those  lines I know  you're famous for? Who knows what would happen. " He stands and gestures at Yuuji's spotless plate. "You done with that?" 

Yuuji nods stupidly, struck dumb. Daichi's already back in the kitchen making washing-up sounds by the time his words fully process. Standing from the chair is an uncoordinated ordeal, but in no time Yuuji is free to skid back into the kitchen, shouting:

"My lines are famous!? Wait, no, wait, you want me to try them on you?!"

Daichi  doesn't flinch ; he  doesn't even turn around but Yuuji has damn good eyes-- he watches, fascinated, as the tips of Daichi's ears go bright red. 

"Well, you won't know until you try, I think," Daichi rumbles down at the dishes in his sink.

"Are you asking me to hit on you,  _ Captain _ ?" 

Daichi glares at him over his shoulder, but Yuuji's seen worse. Hell, he had seen worse from half-drunk Daichi the night before. 

"Well not if you don't get some new material, I'm not." 

"Nah, I think you like it Captain, I think you like me!" 

"Wow, I'm going to regret this aren't I?" 

Yuuji slides up beside him.  He's sure, now, that  he's welcome. There  wasn't any girlfriend and Daichi had as good as waved him on. 

"I think you like it,  _ Captain _ ," Yuuji says again, lodging himself into the angle of the counter, a perfect position to use every inch of his small height advantage. 

Daichi grins at him and  it's like the sun coming through the bedroom window that woke Yuuji up. "I should tell you that I'm sure this works for you all the time, but are you aware that there are dogs liking their butts on your briefs?"

Yuuji wants to say something  suave ,  _ Oh, so you were looking? _ but instead he says (shrieks) "What!" and looks down at his own boxer briefs as if the pattern had  _ changed _ somehow in the last minute and Daichi was just trying to throw him off. Alas, the fat headed cartoon dogs are still licking their cartoon asses gleefully in bright pink and lime green. Yuuji slumps as Daichi chuckles to himself, looking at the dishes again and  _ not _ at any of Yuuji. Daichi: 1, Yuuji: 0. 

"Go put some pants on and I'll walk you back to your dorm room," Daichi says cheerfully as Yuuji can only cover his face and groan. 

"Fine, fine." 

"But Yuuji--" Daichi gently tugs away one of Yuuji's hands. "Next time, when you're fully dressed... try again." 

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on the tweeter: [@theseourbodies](https://twitter.com/theseourbodies)


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